Down for the Count
by BoogaHP1D
Summary: Puck and Santana are sick...enough said...lots of Pucktana fluff!


_I do not own Glee, nor do I own any of its amazing characters._

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Santana was pissed.

And a pissed Santana meant bad things.

And Santana was also sick.

And a sick and pissed Santana meant VERY bad things.

Especially to the person who made her sick and pissed.

And he happened to be Noah Puckerman. The grade A asshole himself had made the big, bad Santana Lopez sick. But there was a catch, Puck was sick too. Yep, it's true. The two biggest badasses in Lima had both come down with a case of the flu. And here they both were, in Santana's room, whining and complaining about chills, aches, and everything in-between.

You see, both of Santana's parents couldn't get out of work and she didn't want to be sick AND alone, so she called up someone she knew wouldn't really mind skipping school for a week or two, until she found out that her friend had also come down with some sort of sickness. So she basically forced him over and now they were both lounging around, watching TV and trying to get comfortable, an almost impossible task. They both had a high fever, terrible coughs, and extremely sore throats. Santana rolled over and threw a pillow at Puck, who was currently sleeping quietly on the floor. She didn't really know why, it wasn't like they hadn't slept in the same bed before.

"How you holding up Puckerman?" She asked. He gave her an angry glare, probably for waking him up, and sat up.

"I feel like I got hit by a bus...and then run over...by a horse."

"And you would know what that feels like, how?"

"Long story…" He smirked and she made a confused face, "Don't question me, Satan. You do just about as much stupid stuff as me."

"Yet, I'm still so much smarter than you…" He gave her another glare and she laughed.

"Seriously, should I have my mom pick up anything on her way home?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm gonna head home soon anyways."

"Why?" Santana asked, putting on her pouty face and whiny voice.

"Um...so my mom doesn't freak when I'm not there."

"Just text her that you're here." Santana said, getting increasingly sad

"Nah, it'll be nice to sleep in my own bed for the night. I'll come back in the morning."

"Please stay, I don't wanna be alone." Santana asked like a little kid, a tear dripping down her face. Being sick definitely gave her more mood swings, because Santana Lopez didn't cry, unless she was very, very sick. The crying seemed to do the trick, because after a few seconds of silence, save for Santana's crying, Puck gave a defeated sigh.

"Alright, I'll stay, but only for tonight. The floor can only be so comfortable." He said.

"Thanks." Santana said as she layed back into her pillow, but Puck was sure that she wanted something else.

"What do you want, San?" He asked angrily, but with some sympathy because he knew what she was going through.

"Will you come lay with me?" She asked, reverting to her five-year old voice, once again.

"But I'm sick." He countered, not wanting to move from his spot on the floor.

"And so am I…" She said determinedly. "C'mon…" She motioned to the other side of her bed as she moved over. "We can't get anymore sick than we already are...Please…" And seeing her so upset must have really gotten to Puck, because he grudgingly removed himself from his spot on the floor and stood up, swaying slightly. He had himself curled up in a mound of blankets, and he had relentless body aches, so he moved slowly to the edge of her bed. He laid himself down and snuggled deeply into his blankets.

"But don't try anything, Puckerman...I'm warning you...If you so much as…"

"San, I'm not gonna pull anything," He interrupted, "Besides, I'm too tired for that shit right now. Go to sleep." And with that, he closed his eyes and began to fall asleep. Then, he felt a heavy sweaty weight wrap around him. Knowing it was Santana's arm, he didn't resist the cuddle. He'd seen Santana Lopez at her worst, and he knew that she only wanted physical comfort when she was sick, so he went with it. And although she couldn't really help it, it didn't stop it from being annoying. He wasn't actually sure what was more annoying, a sick, angry Santana Lopez, or a drunk, weepy Santana Lopez. But it didn't matter, she was like his boy, or girl, and if cuddling was going to make her feel better, than cuddling is what was gonna go down, no matter how un-badass he looked. Besides, if she got better quicker, he wouldn't have to deal with the wrath of Santana Lopez even more than necessary.

* * *

Puck woke up at half past one to the sound of Santana's relentless hacking. She was leaning over the side of her bed, legs dangling, and coughing into the crook of her elbow. A look of concern came across his pale, flushed face, and he leaned over to rub her back. The coughing didn't seem to recede, so he shuffled into her bathroom to refill her glass of water. He returned as quickly as possible and handed her the glass, which she downed in an instant. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Sorry I woke you up…" She said.

"It's fine San. Sorry I couldn't help you sooner."

"Thanks for that, by the way."

"You're welcome, anything for my little Satan." She laughed as he ruffled her already messy hair. "C'mon, we should get some sleep."

"Alright." She laid back down and then rolled over to face him. "And by the way...if you ever call me that again, I will go all Lima Heights Adjacent on your ass!" And with that she shut her eyes and within five minutes, she was snoring softly.

Puck, on the other hand, had a much harder time falling asleep. The constant throbbing in his head made it hard for him to focus on anything but the pain, and the heat, chills, and body aches made in extremely hard to get into a comfortable position.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, Puck stopped trying to fall asleep, and he got out of the bed to go refill his water. He returned to Santana's room and began to pace. He didn't really know what to do. He couldn't go to sleep, for obvious reason, but he couldn't wake up Satan, again, for obvious reasons. He didn't want to feel like death, but he also did NOT want to be murdered by a tired and angry Santana Lopez. So he continued to pace, until he lost track of time and the sun began to peek out at the horizon.

"If you seriously don't stop pacing, I WILL kill you. No me gusta." Santana hissed, words dripping with venom.

"Sorry San…" Puck responded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You ok, Puck?" Santana asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Puck said nonchalantly.

"You're lying…"

"And why do you say that?"

"Cuz you've been pacing for the past 20 minutes and look as tired as hell." Santana retorted, standing up and walking around the bed to look at him. "You look like shit, dude. How long have you been awake?"

"Uh, since like 1:30…" Puck said.

"In the morning?! Dude, It's like 5:30...you should get some sleep. Sick people need sleep. Even I know that...Puck, lay down, get some sleep…"

"But you're sick too and…"

"I'm also not the one who stayed up for four hours without having the balls to ask his best friend for medicine or something."

"Hey! I resent that!" But yelling sent him into a state of coughing which seemed to last forever. Before he knew it, he had a full glass of water in hand and Santana was gently rubbing his back.

"Please Puck...you'll only get more sick...and I can't go back to school without my boy, it just wouldn't be the same…"

"Uh..thanks?" Santana put her hand on his forehead as he laid down.

"Just go to bed..I'm gonna go get some medicine or something to help with the fever."

"No...please don't go..stay and lay here with me." Puck pouted his lip and clasped his hands together, using Santana's "act like a little kid to get what I want" approach against her. Santana contemplated for a second, then walked back to the bed.

"What the hell…" She curled up in the covered as Puck wrapped a warm sweaty arm around her waist. Normally when this happened, it was either pre or post sex, but it was nice to know that they were friends. Beneath all the male bravado and bitch attitude, all these two were looking for was a little unconditional love, which both of the were more than happy to provide. Santana could hear her phone vibrating on her nightstand, and she knew it was probably Brittany wanting to hang out, but she ignored it, because it was soooo nice to feel loved by someone else, if only for a little while. Even by her boy, who she knew had her back, through thick and thin, even if they were both a little down for the count once in a while.

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_**A/N: In the mood for a little Pucktana fluff...had this planned out for a while and finally got around to write it...Please Review! It really means a lot.  
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